


The Doe

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Series: Words Unspoken [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Canon Compliant, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, F/M, Feelings, Hannibal has a vivid imagination, Hannibal is helplessly in love, Hannibal likes to cuddle, Hannigram - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Killing things is basically foreplay, Let’s butcher something, M/M, Manipulation, Metaphors, Mild Language, Murder Husbands, Murder of the week, Mutilation, Naughty Hannibal, Post Yakimono, Sexual Tension, Will gets really emotional about animals, Will is a sassy little bitch, Your friendly neighbourhood psychopath, beautiful idiots, flirtation, food is not people for once, mentions of sexual abuse, season two, so many metaphors, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9876170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: Will and Hannibal have an accident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t particularly like Alana. Just so you know.  
> I’m almost entirely clueless about how you butcher… well, anything, really, so everything about that I pulled together from the internet.  
> I’m also sick with nothing to do but lie in bed and read Hannigram stories all day, which is why this is finished already. Possibly maybe one more part to come!
> 
> Also, pretty pretty please with a bow on top - mind the tags! I'm serious!

Hannibal Lecter always turned his phone off when he had a patient, even his land line. He also asked his patients to turn off theirs. In consequence, he was just as surprised as Will Graham when the phone on one of the side tables interrupted their conversation, its shrill ringing cutting through Will’s sentence.

Will cocked his head to the side, watching him. “You ought to answer. It’d be terribly rude not to.”

He smiled softly, and Hannibal found himself rising from his chair, straightening his jacket as he walked over to the table to answer the call. “Lecter.”

“Dr Lecter, it’s Jack Crawford.”

“Jack. What can I do for you?” He heard Will getting to his feet behind him, coming to stand beside him with a rigid set of his shoulders.

“Is Will with you?”

“Yes. One moment.” He held out the phone, and Will took it with great reluctance.

“Hello, Jack. Is it a case?”

Hannibal watched Will’s face as he listened, watched the discomfort move over his features. After a moment, Will ended the call, handing the phone back with a frown.

“I’m afraid I have to cut this short. Jack needs me to look at something.”

Hannibal placed the phone back in its docking station. “I could accompany you and we could continue our session on the way. You’re my last patient today.”

Will smiled softly. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you, Dr Lecter.”

He smiled back, gesturing at the door. “Please. I insist.”

Will wanted to drive himself, and Hannibal reluctantly agreed, knowing that fighting him for this small bit of agency would not endear Hannibal to him. Will’s car wasn’t dirty or offensive in any other way aside from being old, but the seats seemed to always be more or less covered in dog hair, and Hannibal fervently wished he could wear his plastic suit before sitting down. 

Jack had ordered Will to the banks of the Susquehanna River, west of Darlington, where the body of a girl had been discovered in the Conowingo Dam. He was waiting for them at the police line, his eyebrows rising as he spotted Hannibal next to Will. “Dr Lecter. Didn’t expect to see you at a crime scene again.”

Hannibal raised his hand, smiling genially. “I’m here simply in my capacity as Will’s psychiatrist, Jack. I shall wait right here until Will is ready to leave.”

Will scoffed beside him as he ducked beneath the police tape. “Then you won’t have to wait very long. I’m ready to leave _now_.” He straightened and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, obviously uncomfortable. “Let’s get this over with, Jack.”

Jack’s booming voice rang out in the near darkness. “Everybody behind the line! We need some space here!”

Disgruntled police officers did as they were bid, and a few moments later the maintenance road was empty. Hannibal could see the corpse of a young woman laid out on a tarp next to the river, her body swollen and her dark skin discoloured from being in the water. He watched as Will gathered his courage before he walked over to the body, looking down at her.

Hannibal knew how Will’s gift worked, had seen him employ it many times before. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of it.

The minutes ticked by, with Will giving few outward signs of the mental struggle he was going through, only an occasional shudder that seemed to start at the soles of his feet and moved all the way up his body. Finally, he flinched, his eyes opening. He took a deep breath, turning his face to the sky for a moment, before turning his back on the girl and walking back to where Hannibal and Jack were waiting for him.

Hannibal lifted the police line for him. “Are you alright, Will?”

“More or less.” He forced a smile, one that tugged painfully at Hannibal’s own face, like a phantom ache, and Hannibal carefully schooled his expression into one of concern for his friend. Will turned to Jack. “She was abused. There are old cigarette burns on her thighs. Probably by a relative, father, brother, uncle, something like that. You’ll find signs of rape.”

“So our suspect is a black male, 20 to 50?”

Will smiled sadly and shook his head. “No. A woman. Mother, stepmother. All the mutilations, the cuts to her breasts and genitals, sewing her mouth shut, shearing off her hair… It’s punishment for leading someone astray. For… for talking about it.” He took a shuddering breath. “She wouldn’t stop, so they made her stop.”

Hannibal placed a hand on his shoulder. “Will...”

He seemed to shrink beneath his touch, drawing further into himself. When he spoke, the effort it took him was palpable, his voice strained. “Are we done, Jack?”

Jack was watching them carefully. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, we’re done. Thank you, Will.”

Will just nodded and all but bolted back to his car. Hannibal hung back a moment longer. “He may not be ill any more, Jack, but you still need to be careful with him. A mind like his breaks far too easily.”

Jack smiled grimly. “I wish I had a choice, Dr Lecter.” He tipped his hat to Hannibal before turning away and walking over to the corpse where Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price were now kneeling and examining her.

Hannibal found Will behind the wheel of his car, drumming his fingers on the leather impatiently, the motor running, and he slid into the passenger seat. He had hardly closed the door when Will pressed the accelerator and the car shot forward. Hannibal watched him for a moment after he had fastened his seat belt. “Maybe I should drive.”

Will barked a laugh. “Don’t you trust me, Dr Lecter?” The needle moved over the speedometer, climbing steadily, and the car shot through the darkness. They soon left Conowingo Road and drove south down Darlington Road, and Hannibal continued to watch Will in the dim light from the dashboard. His mouth was set in a hard line, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, and Hannibal wasn’t entirely sure that Will even saw the road before him. He took a deep breath, finding _Will_ beneath the dogs and gasoline and exhaust, the raw anger that permeated his scent making him flinch.

“You have seen things much worse than this,” Hannibal said after a long silence, his voice soft. “Things straight from nightmares.” Things that he, Hannibal, had put there for him to find. “Why does this bother you so much?”

Will shifted his grip on the steering wheel, kneading the leather. “It’s… Kids are… They’re tough to look at. Like that.” His frown deepened. “I see what they did to her and I...” He laughed, a sound so devoid of humour that it made Hannibal shiver in anticipation. “I want to find them and _tear them apart_ with my bare hands.”

Hannibal’s heart jumped in his chest.

He cleared his throat after a moment. “Why do you continue to work for Jack Crawford if it makes so you uncomfortable?”

Another of Will’s sad smiles. “I save lives, don’t I?”

“True. But this case seems to be rather personal.”

“It’s entirely personal. I doubt there’ll be another murder like this. But...” His grip on the wheel tightened even more.

“Once you’ve killed someone, escalation of violence is likely.”

Will laughed again, softly now, and looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Do you speak from experience, Dr Lecter?”

Hannibal met his eyes, smiling. Now that Will was no longer confused and hindered by his illness, his true self had begun to emerge, and Hannibal delighted in the sassiness the younger man displayed. “Are you flirting with me, Will?”

Will just gave him a lopsided smile in answer, and Hannibal fought the impulse to reach out and slide his fingers into Will’s hair, tilt his head back and breathe him in.

This level of physical attraction was very unusual for Hannibal, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle himself. The other day, he had come across the painting ‘St Michael defeating Satan’ in his mind palace, and he had been stunned to discover that the archangel now wore Will’s face. He had been almost disappointed that Satan didn’t wear his own. It showed him, however, that Will really was inserting himself into every aspect of Hannibal’s life, and it left him rather at a loss. Will had made it all too clear that he despised him, most prominently when he tried to have him killed, of course.

Then again, he had resumed his therapy, unprompted. Hannibal chose to view that as a good sign.

He continued watching Will as they sped through the darkness. His grip on the wheel had loosened somewhat now, his shoulders not quite so rigid any more. After a while, he met Hannibal’s eyes again. “So, how’s Alana?”

“Quite well, I assume. We haven’t spoken in some time.”

Will chuckled. “Don’t you know one shouldn’t assume? You know how the saying goes.”

“Do you resent me becoming involved with Dr Bloom?”

Will looked at him from the corner of his eye, wetting his lips with his tongue before speaking. “I resent you for a great many things. Seeing Alana is just one of them.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, the image of Alana rising up in his mind, naked and beautiful atop him, and then the hips beneath his hands became slimmer, and he blinked up at _Will_ in her place now, Will whose heat Hannibal was fucking into, Will who looked down at him with ecstasy written on his features.

Hannibal shuddered almost imperceptibly and forced his eyes open. He cleared his throat, picking at some dog hair that had found its way onto his coat. “Would you prefer it if I stopped seeing her?”

Will laughed again. “What I would _prefer_ is...”

There was a crash, and the car lurched to the side, spinning around its axis, out of control until Will found the brakes and brought them to a stop. One second the road in front of them had been empty, the next she had been right in front of them. Will couldn’t have swerved around her if he’d tried.

They sat in silence for a long moment, panting in unison as they waited for their heartbeats to slow down, Will clinging to the steering wheel. Hannibal reached over to him, touching his shoulder. “Will? Will. Are you alright?”

He turned to look at Hannibal, eyes wide. He must have hit his head on the wheel for there was blood on his forehead, and Hannibal reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Will blinked a couple of times. “What the fuck was that?”

Hannibal leaned over, dabbing at the blood. “I believe we hit a deer.”

Will blinked again, then fumbled with his seatbelt. “Shit. _Shit!_ ” It finally opened and he pushed open the door, almost falling out of the car.

“Will!” Hannibal looked after him, then at the handkerchief he was still holding, at the bright red stains of Will’s blood on the crisp linen. He folded it carefully and tucked it back into his pocket before unbuckling his own seatbelt and following Will.

He found him kneeling on the other side of the road, next to the animal they had hit. It was a doe, surprisingly tall, her fur shimmering in the glow of the car’s headlights. Will was gently stroking her neck, his eyes brimming with tears. Hannibal crouched next to him, placing his own hand on the creature’s flank. “We need to help her, get her to a vet, or...”

Hannibal slid his hand down her leg, and she flinched, making a high pitched wailing noise that made Will jump. “Her hind legs are both broken.” He moved his hand to her belly, fingers carding through the soft fur there, and she shuddered beneath his touch. “And she is bleeding internally.” He looked over at Will who stared back with wide, tearful eyes. “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for her.”

The pure devastation on Will’s face, the realisation that he was responsible for the painful death of this beautiful, innocent creature, was magnificent to behold. Now, the tears spilled over, sliding down his cheeks as he continued to pet her.

After a moment, Hannibal touched his shoulder. “Do you have a knife in your car?”

Will became as still as a statue as he processed what Hannibal meant by the question, and he nodded slowly. “What… What are you going to do with her?”

Hannibal’s grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly. “We can honour her.” Will looked up at him then, something feral in his eyes, and Hannibal leaned closer. “Every part of her.”

The car engine ticked behind them as it cooled down, in time with the seconds ticking past as they knelt there, just looking at each other, until finally Will rose and walked back to the car. He returned a moment later, carrying a medium sized hunting knife. He knelt again, weighing the weapon in his hand. “I always have this beneath my seat, just in case.”

Hannibal smiled softly as images of what ‘just in case’ could entail flashed before his mind’s eye, before holding out his hand. “I can do it, if you like.”

Will shook his head as he let the fingers of his free hand slide through her fur again. “No, I… It’s my fault. I’ll do it.” And yet he hesitated, the knife hovering in mid-air as he stared down into her brown eyes. He flinched when Hannibal placed his hand on Will’s.

“Together then.” Hannibal guided his hand, bringing the knife to her throat as he reached around Will to tilt her head back. “Ready?”

Will nodded stiffly, pressing back against Hannibal’s chest ever so slightly, and they brought the knife down, cutting through muscle and flesh, severing her arteries. She kicked once with her forelegs, and Will’s grip on the knife tightened. Hannibal let go of her head, pulling Will more fully against him as they watched the blood spurting from her throat, pulsing in time with the beating of her heart, watched as she struggled to breathe once more, and then was still.

Will shuddered against Hannibal’s chest, drawing a deep breath, and Hannibal released his hand, winding his arm around him instead and holding him. Will didn’t object, still staring down at the doe, and Hannibal rested his chin on Will’s shoulder for a moment, breathing him in.

Finally, he let go and got to his feet, brushing leaves and dirt from his trousers. “A clean death. Isn’t that all anyone could ask for?”

Will chuckled darkly. “I suppose so.”

Together, they heaved her into the back of Will’s car. They didn’t speak on the ride to Wolf Trap, each lost in thought. Hannibal leaned back against the head rest of his seat, watching Will and thinking of Alana and Abigail, of the bright red of Abigail’s blood and her wide doe eyes, smiling to himself.

It was fully dark when they pulled into Will’s driveway, the dogs greeting them with ecstatic barks, swarming them with wagging tails and wet noses when Will opened the door to get his knives from the house. They carried the doe to Will’s shed, and after he had peeled off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, Hannibal held out his hand for the first knife.

“Allow me?”

Will silently handed him the knife and watched, still palpably unhappy, as Hannibal began cutting her open.

“She will make a good meal, Will. This is the way of things. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

Will scoffed. “Shouldn’t I? I mean, hunting is one thing. But this...”

Hannibal looked up at him, licking his lips. “However unintended this was, the result is the same.”

Will stared back at him, something in his eyes that Hannibal couldn’t place. The tips of his ears reddened, and after another moment he turned away, definitely blushing now. “I’ll go check on the dogs.”

Hannibal smiled as the door of the shed banged closed behind Will before he continued with his work. They should have done this immediately after killing her, but it had been too dark, the risk of nicking her intestines and spoiling the meat too great.

He remembered the first time he had done this, _not_ on a deer. He had made all the mistakes a beginner could have made, angry with himself for weeks afterwards. So much effort with so few results. Many years had passed since then, and he had had enough practice to perfect his technique. Dressing the carcass took him less than 15 minutes, the internal organs separated neatly on a plastic sheet on a table on the side, the intestines in a bucket underneath. Usually he would have used them to make sausage but this time he was going to endear himself to Will’s dogs. Dried intestines made wonderful dog treats, or so he’d read.

Will returned soon after he was finished, his face just as flushed as before he had left, a band-aid now stuck to the wound on his forehead, and he helped Hannibal with hanging her on meat hooks. It was cold enough to just leave her in the shed as the meat aged, and Will pulled a vacuum packing device from a shelf. Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

“For your fish, I presume?”

“For the fish.”

They worked in comfortable silence, cleaning the organs and then placing them in the plastic bags to be sealed later. Hannibal was almost overwhelmed by the strong scents of blood and meat, but not so much so that he wouldn’t have noticed the very prominent scent of Will’s arousal as he returned to the shed. ‘The lady doth protest too much’, indeed.

Once they were done, Will insisted on driving Hannibal back into the city. “I’ve been nothing but an inconvenience today.”

“Not at all.” Hannibal touched Will’s arm gently. “I look forward to serving her to you, Will.”

He looked at him through his eyelashes, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t you think that is in rather poor taste? Considering what I’ve accused you of?”

Hannibal mirrored his smile, squeezing his arm. “You were confused. I do not hold it against you.”

Will laughed and looked out of the car window, brushing an errant curl out of his face. Hannibal sighed softly. _My dear boy._

He pulled back his arm and unfastened his seatbelt. “I can expect you on Friday, I hope?”

“Yeah.” Will picked at a loose thread on the steering wheel, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “Do you… want to help with skinning her? Breaking her up?”

Hannibal smiled. “I would be delighted.”

“Okay. She should be ready by Sunday. Would that work for you?”

“It would. I am looking forward to it. I think we work together rather well.” Smiling at Will once more, he opened the car door and slid out of the seat. He leaned down before closing the door again. “Good night, Will.”

Will returned his smile, that beautiful flush back on his face again. “Good night, Dr Lecter.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A week later, Hannibal hosted a small dinner party, with Will and Alana as guests, and Will’s face when he saw Alana sitting at the table was so amusing that Hannibal had to excuse himself to the kitchen under pretence of checking on the meat. He had decided on a very simple presentation, steaks which he prepared sous-vide and served with Brussels sprouts, a variety of mushrooms, radishes and figs. Even Alana, who by her on admission was no big fan of venison, visibly enjoyed it.

“And you, Will? How do you find our brown-eyed beauty?”

Will paused, fork suspended in mid-air as he met Hannibal’s eyes. “She’s… It’s delicious. As always.”

Alana raised a delicately plucked eyebrow. “I’m obviously missing something here.”

Hannibal gave her a good-natured smile. “Will and I had a little accident last week.”

“I hit a deer. With my car.”

Her eyes widened, and she reached across the table to place her hand on his. “Oh, Will, I’m sorry.” She looked over at Hannibal. “Were you hurt? Either of you?”

Will gestured at his head, the wound just barely visible. “I hit my head. Nothing serious.”

Alana looked down at her plate, at the meat that lay half-eaten. “So this is...”

“It turns out Hannibal is quite adept at butchering things,” Will said with a sly smile as he speared a mushroom on his fork.

After dessert - blackberry mousse and honey-tuile mille-feuille, something Alana made noises over that sounded startlingly similar to those she made in the bedroom – Hannibal lead them into his study. Alana sat on the wide sofa, looking at him half expectantly, half embarrassed, and Will went to stand by the window with the most wonderful frown on his face, looking out into the darkness. Hannibal indulged Alana, sitting beside her, his hand on her knee as she leaned back against the cushions, sipping her beer.

Hannibal watched the tense set of Will’s shoulders. “Remind me later, Will, I have something for you.” 

Will turned around, his eyes flicking to Hannibal’s hand on Alana’s knee before he met Hannibal’s gaze. His frown deepened infinitesimally. “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s not for you, as such. Rather for your dogs.” Predictably, Will brightened at that, coming to sit in the armchair across from them. “I took the liberty of making dog treats out of the deer’s intestines.”

Will laughed softly, the first genuine laugh Hannibal had heard from him in a while. A wonderful warmth bloomed in his belly at the sound, a feeling he carefully tucked away to examine more closely later.

“You’re going to spoil them.”

Alana nudged him with her elbow, smiling lopsidedly. “Nothing for Applesauce, huh?”

Hannibal inclined his head. “Of course there is also a portion for Applesauce.”

Seeing Will to the door later was wonderfully awkward, with Alana offering a hug as she said her goodbye in the study that made Will look like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Hannibal handed Will the ziploc bag with the dog treats after he had shrugged into his jacket. “I forgot to ask, any news from Jack?”

A dark cloud seemed to pass over Will’s features as he shuffled his feet, passing the bag from hand to hand. “They found her family. Her name was...” He drew a shuddering breath and ran a hand through his hair, blinking erratically. “Ndidi. She was 15.”

Hannibal was by no way fluent in Igbo, but he had heard the name before, knew what it meant. “Patience.”

Will nodded. “A fitting name. She bore everything they put her through. Until she couldn’t any longer.”

Hannibal wanted very much to take Will into his arms then, another of those peculiar impulses he would have to take a closer look at. Instead he reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Were you correct in your deduction?”

“The mother, yes. Confessed within an hour of being questioned.” He chuckled darkly. “Got the rest, too. Stepfather confessed to raping her regularly since she was _nine_.” He choked on the last word, staggering forward as if the burden of this knowledge was too much for his body to bear all of a sudden. Hannibal caught him, and Will let him pull him against his chest, stroking his back soothingly as Will tried to get his breathing back under control.

Hannibal squeezed the back of his neck softly. “I’m sorry, Will. Jack shouldn’t put you through these things.”

Will drew a shuddering breath before, with a small sigh, disentangling himself from Hannibal’s embrace. He smiled painfully. “He probably shouldn’t.” He lifted the ziploc bag. “Thank you for these. I’m sure they’ll enjoy them.”

“It was my pleasure.” Hannibal smiled as he led Will to the door. “You look after others so diligently, Will. Please remember to look after yourself as well.”

Another of Will’s sad smiles. “I’ll do my best. Good night, Hannibal.”

“Good night, Will.”

Hannibal stood in the hallway a minute longer, leaning against the door and letting himself bask in Will’s scent, marred by despair as it was. Certainly he wasn’t entirely misinterpreting Will’s behaviour? It hadn’t just been resentment against him that he had seen on his face in the study, no, there had been something else, too.

Alana came into the hallway then, on bare feet and with her hair undone, and he smiled at her. “Want me to stay the night?” She was carrying her shoes, hooked over two fingers, and waved them in his direction now.

Hannibal pushed himself away from the door, walking over to her and sliding his hand into her hair. “Please do.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, and she moaned softly, her shoes clattering to the floor.

No one could blame him if, later, he imagined someone else in his bed.

The END

**Author's Note:**

> [The painting](http://homoerotimuseum.net/eur/eur06/403/013.html)
> 
>  
> 
> [Main course](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/74/9c/1b/749c1bfcabb2a70ba3df56d793ce73ad.jpg) / [Dessert](http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/blackberry-mousse-and-honey-tuile-napoleons)


End file.
